


Bon Appetit

by tinyarmedtrex



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Flirting, M/M, One Shot, chef richie, restaurant critic eddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 18:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19362022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyarmedtrex/pseuds/tinyarmedtrex
Summary: “Make sure you personally make whatever he orders. Don’t let any of the others mess this up.”“No shit Stan.” He wasn’t an idiot.“And don’t gawk at him.”That was interesting. Richie cocked his head. “Cocker Staniel, is he my type?” Richie asked, moving past Stan to peer out the door. He immediately saw the reviewer. He was sitting alone, his napkin carefully placed in his lap and sipping a glass of white wine while he frowned at his phone.And he was cute. Damn cute. Blond curls and a fitted shirt. He looked small, small enough that Richie could pick him up if he wanted.“Yes, he’s small, angry and completely unobtainable. He’s exactly your type.” Stan said, appearing at Richie’s shoulder.“Damn Stan, just stab me next time. It’s less painful.”





	Bon Appetit

“Nathan do not let the risotto burn! You need to keep stirring it! Samantha! Stop stirring that poor souffle, you’ll whip all the air out of it! For the love of all that is cheesy and holy- STOP!” Richie was darting back and forth in his kitchen, trying to work with all his idiot sous chefs so they didn’t burn the broccoli or set fire to the kitchen or whatever other idiotic thing they would try once he took his eyes off them for more than a minute. 

“Richie!” Stan, Richie’s partner in business but not in life, looking alarmed and Richie stopped what he was doing. Stan never looked alarmed. Even when Richie told him that they had to throw out a months worth of seafood because a stock boy had put in next to the rice and forgotten about it. Even then, leaving that nearly a week’s profits were down the drain, Stan had kept a straight face. His only display of emotion had been the thin line that his lips had been drawn into. 

If Stan was alarmed something big was happening. 

“What?” Richie stopped what he was doing, turning to look at his oldest friend. They’d known each other since diapers and had been through thick and thin, including opening this restaurant. When Richie had approached Stan about it he expected the man to say no, that it was a bad investment. Richie knew the statistics- most restaurants close within a year of opening and people lost tens of thousands of dollars on them. But he couldn’t be a sous chef anymore, he wanted creative control and he knew he had what it took He’d been top of his class, he’d studied overseas, he could do it. 

He had gone to Stan with a thick folder of information- mocked up menus, a business plan, options for him to buy Stan out later if he wanted. He knew his friend, he was prepared. But he hadn’t needed any of it. Stan had agreed, telling Richie he believed in him and that he’d help however he could.

That was six years ago. Since then there had been many ups and downs but they’d made it. They were consistently voted one of the top fine dining restaurants in the city and had a Michelin star.  Richie was damn proud. 

“Is Mike okay? And Cooper?” Richie asked, referring to his friend’s husband and their fat corgi. 

“Yes, yes, they’re fine.” Stan waved off his concern then dropped his voice. “He’s here.” 

“Keanu Reeves?” Richie whispered back and Stan whacked his shoulder. 

“No you idiot! The restaurant reviewer for the New York Times! He just got seated at a table near the back.”

“What?” Richie screeched. He couldn’t help it. They had been trying to get the critic to come visit for years but he never had. They’d never even heard back from him. Now he was here, feet away from Richie. “How do you know it’s him?” The man was infamously secretive, he didn’t announce his presence or ever ask for special treatment. He was supposed to fly under the radar and from what Richie could tell he did a damn fine job of it. He’d been on several restaurant reddit boards that tried to figure out his identity but none had. 

Stan looked at him like he was an idiot. “Richie please, I’ve known what he looks like for months. I do my research.” 

“Sometimes you’re terrifying.” Stan seemed to like this response, offering Richie a Chesire cat grin.  Richie wanted to ask more but Stan was all business. 

“Make sure you personally make whatever he orders. Don’t let any of the others mess this up.” 

“No shit Stan.” He wasn’t an idiot. 

“And don’t gawk at him.”

That was interesting. Richie cocked his head. “Cocker Staniel, is he my type?” Richie asked, moving past Stan to peer out the door. He immediately saw the reviewer. He was sitting alone, his napkin carefully placed in his lap and sipping a glass of white wine while he frowned at his phone. 

And he was cute. Damn cute. Blond curls and a fitted shirt. He looked small, small enough that Richie could pick him up if he wanted. 

“Yes, he’s small, angry and completely unobtainable. He’s exactly your type.” Stan said, appearing at Richie’s shoulder. 

“Damn Stan, just stab me next time. It’s less painful.” Richie pulled back and looked at him. “I’ll leave him alone. He’ll get the royal treatment. Everything will go perfectly, okay?”

Stan looked skeptical but nodded tersely. “You can do this Richie. I know you can.” 

Richie grinned. “Why Stan, you do love me.” He heard a clatter and turned. “I need to get back, keep me updated on the gorgeous critic.” Stan nodded again then disappeared.

Richie made sure that the man’s order came directly to him. First the appetizer- clams on the half shell, soup- lobster bisque- and then the main course- the special, a ribeye with broccolini and roasted carrots. Stan popped back once or twice, reporting that he was utterly unreadable. He sent the food back half eaten but Richie assumed that that was normal. The guy was small, there was no way he could eat all that.

Disaster struck with dessert. He ordered a chocolate souffle but Richie had gotten distracted, remaking someone else’s dinner, and one of the other chefs made and sent out another one, one that Richie knew was less than perfect.

“Fuck!” He watched as the waiter delivered the dessert and the critic punctured it with his spoon, carefully raising a bite to his perfect lips. 

“Don’t eat that!” Richie rushed out of the kitchen. Thankfully it was late and there weren’t many other people in the dining room. The man stopped, spoon on his lips, and stared at Richie. 

“Don’t eat it.” Richie begged, stopping in front of his table. “Please.”

“Is it poison?” The man asked, frowning as he lowered the spoon, looking at the dessert and Richie suspiciously. 

“No, no nothing like that.” Richie ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “It’s not what you were supposed to get. It’s not perfect.” The man was still frowning and Richie started to babble. “I know who you are okay? And I can’t let you judge my baby on a broken souffle. I can’t. So don’t eat it. I’ll make you something else, anything. You can ask for fucking funfetti cake and I’ll make it. But I can’t let the New York Times-”

“Shush!” The man jumped up, putting his hand over Richie’s mouth. “God you talk a lot.” 

When he lowered his hand Richie grinned. “A minute into this and you already can’t keep your hands off me. That’s hot.” 

The man stepped back, an adorable flush appearing on his face. “My job is a secret. If it got out who I was I’d be screwed. So  _ shut up _ .” Richie had to resist adding a comment about how he’d like to screw the man. He had some semblance of professionalism. “Also are you actually hitting on me? You know who I am. Chefs usually try to bribe or avoid me.”

Richie shrugged. “Can’t help it, I see a cute guy and the words just flow like a river.”

The man smirked. “Or diarrhea.”

Richie exhaled. “I’m trying real hard not to propose to you right now.” He put his hands on his hips. “But then I’m sure some naysayer would say that you only gave me a perfect review because I’m sleeping with you. So we’ll put a pin in it. Back to the matter at hand, will you let me make you a new dessert?”

He regarded Richie then nodded. “Deal.”

Richie let out a sigh of relief. “Perfect.” He glanced at his watch. “Look this place closes soon, will you stick around and I’ll make you whatever you want?” 

Another nod and Richie grinned. “I’ll come get you in an hour or so. Don’t disappear.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The man sat back down and Richie rushed back to the kitchen, trying to make the last few orders and then pushing his staff out of the kitchen as quickly as he could. He was surprisingly nervous, not just because of the dessert but because of the cute guy.

“Okay, come on back.” Richie called once everyone was gone, ushering him in. The man stood, putting his phone away and walking to Richie.

“Here cutie, I got you a chair.” Richie pointed. “What can I make you?”

“Eddie.” The man said, sitting down and facing Richie.

He frowned. “Don’t think I’ve heard of that one.”

“My name. It’s Eddie. Not cutie or gorgeous or whatever other nicknames I’m sure are rolling around up there.” He crossed his legs and Richie nodded.

“Well Eds, I’m Richie.” He leaned against the counter, trying not to stare. “What can I make you?”

Eddie’s tongue darted out, licking his bottom lip. Richie wasn’t sure that it was a conscious thing but it made his pants a little tighter. “Surprise me.”

“Oh baby, I’m full of surprises.” Richie said, grinning and turning to gather ingredients. As he started to cook Eddie stood, moving on the other side of the counter. 

“How’d you get into cooking?” Eddie asked, watching him whip egg whites.

“I used to cook with my mom.” Richie said. “I’d stand on a stool and stir for her. Eventually I could stir for myself and I started experimenting. The rest is history.” 

Eddie smiled. “That’s pretty cute.”

“You’re pretty cute.” Richie said without thinking then shook his head. “Shit I’m bad at this.”

“At flirting?”

“At  _ not  _ flirting.” Richie said and Eddie giggled. “You can’t make noises like that when I’m trying not to flirt with you.” 

Eddie opened his mouth to reply but then thought better of it, instead asking Richie where he studied. 

Richie poured the batter into a pan then started on the whipped cream. “How’d you get your job?” He asked, trying to distract himself from staring. 

“I fell into it. I was on the paper and filled in for the old reviewer one day. I guess they liked what I wrote because they asked me to stay on after she left.” He laughed. “It’s ironic, my mom never let me eat stuff like that growing up. It’s strange to think I have a palate for it.”

“Stuff like what?”

Eddie dipped a finger into the whipped cream, catching Richie’s eye as he licked it off his finger, hollowing his cheeks slightly. “Like that.” 

Richie had to stop himself from groaning. All he wanted to do was watch Eddie do that every day for the rest of his life. They talked as Richie continued baking, Richie was impressed by how much Eddie knew about cooking and found that they had some of the same favorite restaurants- and same least favorites. 

“I hate places that are pretentious just to be pretentious, you know?” Eddie asked, watching Richie cut strawberries. “So many places just try to make things look fancy instead of focusing on making it taste good. Ugh.” He rolled his eyes, taking a drink from the fresh glass of wine Richie had offered him. 

“Exactly! It’s about flavors! That needs to be the focus!” Richie chopped up some basil, reminding himself not to gesture with the knife. 

“No more tiny portions that look good. I want real meals.” Eddie added and Richie had to stop himself from saying something inappropriate. He’d never expected to have so much in common with a renowned critic and he had to remind himself to keep it professional. For now at least. 

Finally, the dish was complete. Eddie watched from his seat on the counter as he decorated the plate then pushed it over. 

“Angel food cake?” Eddie asked, accepting a fork from Richie. 

“I know, it’s simple but,” Richie shrugged, “Delicious.” He had a feeling that Eddie usually got heavy chocolate desserts and he wanted to surprise the man.

Eddie nodded then, carefully, cut a piece with his fork, spearing a strawberry then dipping it in the whipped cream. Richie tried not to fidget as he chewed and swallowed.

“Well?” He asked, watching Eddie lick a small amount of whipped cream from the corner of his mouth. “You’re killing me Smalls.”

Eddie shook his head at Richie’s comment but then smile. “It’s perfect. I like the lemon in the whipped cream, it adds another layer.” 

Richie exhaled. “Thank god.” Then he strolled around the table, stopping near Eddie. “Does that mean we’re done with the review?” Eddie looked up at him through his long lashes and nodded. “Thank  _ fuck _ .” Richie exhaled. “So I can ask you out now? Because I-”

Eddie cut him off by pulling Richie down and crashing their lips together.  He responded immediately, slotting himself between Eddie’s legs and kissing him back. Eddie’s legs wrapped around him, pulling Richie closer as his hands threaded through Richie’s hair, angling his head to better capture his lips. Richie ground against him, sparing only a passing thought for how unsanitary this was. Then every thought slid from his mind as Eddie whined, tilting his hips into Richie’s.

“Fuck Eds,” Richie moved down, attacking the soft skin on Eddie’s neck with his lips. “You taste better than a perfectly cooked filet mignon.” 

Eddie laughed, his voice husky. “Normally I’d be upset about being compared to a piece of meat.”

“But?” 

“But I like it from you.”

This spurred Richie on. His hands went to Eddie’s shirt, untucking it and sliding his hands under. “I can think of lots of other things of mine you’ll like.” He said, running his hands over Eddie’s back. “Like my-”

“Richie!” Stan’s voice rang out. “I know you’re still here! I saw your bike outside. How did the review go? God I hope you didn’t flirt with him too much. We need a good review not a sexual harassment lawsuit!” Richie could hear him moving around and knew he’d find them soon. There was nothing Richie could do except step back and let Eddie fix his shirt.

“Oh.” Stan stepped around the corner as Eddie was trying to shove his shirt back into his pants. Stan simply raised an eyebrow. “I see I’m interrupting.” 

“I was just leaving.” Eddie said, giving them a quick nod and quickly making his way to the door. 

Richie shot Stan a glare and the other man shrugged, mouthing ‘I didn't know!’ before Richie turned and followed Eddie. He caught up with him as Eddie reached the front door. 

“Wait,” Richie said, grabbing the shorter man’s wrist. “I still want that date.”

Eddie turned to him, lips pursed and yanked his hand back. “You’ll get a good review, you don’t need to keep up the charade.”

“What?” 

“The flirting and- the rest. It’s fine. I’ll give your restaurant a good review Richie. You don’t need to go out with me.”

“Great!” Richie said and Eddie frowned. “No, not that! The review. That’s great. But that’s not why I asked you out.” Eddie crossed his arms, waiting for Richie to continue. “I asked you out because I like you. You’re funny and really hot. And you’re a bit of an asshole.” 

“Gee, thanks.” 

“But that’s my type! You’re my type. And I’d like to get to know you better. Even now, you’re pissed and I still have to resist pushing you against the door and kissing you again.” 

The tips of Eddie’s ears turned red but he looked pleased. “You’re not fucking with me?”

Richie stepped in, taking Eddie’s hand again and brushing his lips over his knuckles. “I’m really not. I’d like to be fucki-”

“Okay!” Eddie stopped him, smiling. “Okay. I’ll go out with you. After I write the review. I like this job and I don’t want to lose it.”

Richie grinned. “Works for me. You know where to find me.” He squeezed Eddie’s hand before letting it go. “I’ll even cook you a fancy steak.”

“I prefer burgers.” 

Richie clutched his chest, pretending to be stabbed. “You wound me! Oh I thought you were perfect and I was wrong. Eds, I don’t know if I can go on.”

Eddie put his hands on Richie’s shoulders, using him to lift himself up and press a kiss to Richie’s cheek. “I’ll convince you yet. You can come to my place and I’ll cook for you.”

“Naked?” Richie asked, wiggling his eye brows and Eddie smirked.

“We’ll see how the date goes.” He said and Richie shook his head, awed.

“God Eds, you really need to leave before I propose.” He bent down and pressed an innocent kiss to Eddie’s lips, smiling as he felt the other man kiss him back. “Go write me a glowing review so we can go on that date.”

Eddie nodded, slipping out of Richie’s grip and finally going to the door. 

Three days later, Eddie’s review was published and it was as positive as he’s promised.

Four days later, Richie was ringing Eddie’s doorbell, holding a bottle of wine and reminding himself to breathe. 

**Author's Note:**

> A stupid 1 shot I couldnt get out of my head


End file.
